*blows off dust*

It has a ridiculously long time since I’ve posted here, but since I only have one reader, and I talked to her yesterday (hi Lisa!), then I guess it’s okay.

Right now I’m sitting typing this with my current craft project covering my lap. It’s a project that makes me pretty happy cause it’s one my craft buddies are doing at the same time: the Granny Stripe Blanket ala Lucy from Attic24.

We all became Lucy fans at the same time, and have been following her together ever since.

We all decided to do this project and we all ordered wool together (which, naturally, included a package-opening party). And now lookie… *sigh* pretty.

It’s bright and squishy and pretty much everything I love in a project.

And our still unnamed project continues…

As for my half of the project this week, this was pretty much the highlight of my week. I bought this book from a second hand bookstore in the city last year; it’s a copy of Fragile Things, a collection of Neil Gaiman short stories.

Neil Gaiman is one of my favourite authors and I love his short stories so I like to make them last. As such I’ve been reading this book on and off, one story at a time, over several months. I was flicking through it this week and found this pressed between the pages: a crisp, smooth twenty dollar note. Undoubtably the best thing I’ve ever found left behind in a book, ever (and I’ve found some weird things.

Lisa and I are both project junkies. We’re past the point of saving. No 12-step programs will do the trick for us.

This is our new project: every week we have a randomly selected word and it’s our job to photograph that word. Out project is currently unnamed so if you have any suggestions we’d love to hear it!

Thanks to Lisa for merging the photos!

They went with songs to the battle, they were young. Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted. They fell with their faces to the foe. They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.

Every once in a while I have a ‘Hannah Day’. There is no consistent reasoning behind a ‘Hannah Day’ – her mum needed a babysitter, she wanted to play, it was the school holidays, there was something fun on… the list goes on.

More often than not, though, it’s because she just wants to play. I very much enjoy my position as the ‘favourite’ – and I can say that quite freely, knowing that my brother and sister agree with me. I’m “Beeky” and “Beeky” is the only one willing to do crazy silly things, the one more like a seven year old than she is. All in all, I’m just living it up until the day she hits ten and realises that I’m a dork.

Anyways, last week the local club put on a holiday ‘Rainbow Disco’ for the kids and of course, this was something to which only Beeky could attend. I was surprised by just how many kids there were! Everywhere you looked, there were kids underfoot. We headed straight for a table to set up a base camp and before she could even take off her jacket she was gone, lost to the masses.

She had a great day running and playing and dancing, and I spent my time shifting from one chair to another (to whichever faced her general direction) and finishing up my book – all in all a pretty good outing!

She wasn’t all too impressed to be leaving early, but with her cast having only recently come off, I was worried she was over taxing her foot and she had already started to limp a little. All pouts were put aside, however, when we remembered the promised trip to Sparty’s for a balloon.

The balloons (yes, I had to have one too!) did not receive a kind reception when we returned home, but we sure had fun having our balloon fight.

I found this week really hard – how do I photograph smell? I originally tried to photograph burning paper… which really did not work out. But this is what I landed on.

Rosin has a unique smell – it’s not particularly strong, but I like it all the same. I had a music teacher in high school whom I really loved. She played the violin and I always wanted to learn. Though she rarely played in class, the smell of rosin still makes me think of her, the music rooms and the many, many lunch hours I spent squirreled away in there.

Next: orange

A while ago a friend gave me 3/4 of a ball of this squishy green wool. I didn’t know the brand, the colour, or even the blend (because it was definitely a blend of some kind). There was enough for a little project, and with being such pretty green there was really only one person to whom it should go.

pattern: Mug and French Press Jacket (ravelry)